One Week of March

Movies Wishing for Manchester

Movies Wishing for Manchester
March 1, 2018
    After I sent Lillia that text, I got this odd feeling in the very pit of my stomach. It wasnt nervousness, Ive been friends with her since level 4. It wasnt hunger, I'm never hungry when I wake up. It wasn't fear, for I have nothing to be afraid of. But then I realized, it was desperation. The low ache in my stomach wasnt of nervousness or hunger or even fear, but of desperation, of desire, of hope. I longed for her so much that it physically hurt me. It was an ache deep, deep down gnawing at my gut, ripping through everything I thought i knew about love.
    Though, I didnt long for anything sexual, or heck even romantic, I just wished to see her clean, soft face. Feel her swift, flowing hair. Smell every ounce of her lovely smell. I just wanted to be near her. All the time and forever.
    "Yeah, my dad will drive me to your house in 30, that chill with you?" flashed Lillia's text on my blank phone screen.
    "Sounds great, see you then <3." I replied, smiling slightly. I jumped out of bed and stared at my face in the finger printed mirror. I stared at my reflection long enough for it to morph into different shapes and sizes and colors. Apparently thats a normal thing but when i was younger I always thought that I was totally insane or something.
    The next thing I know a single tear fell from my face and onto my calloused hand. I held it. Or at least attempted to. It eventually dissolved into a wet smear on my palm. More tears fell. I was sobbing. "I just wish she wasnt so far away," i whispered between sobs, leaning my forehead against the mirror. Of course, I didnt mean distance, but mentally and emotionally. She has no idea that I was absolutely in love with her. It was as if she was the lyrics and I was the drum beat, we go together but not in a gorgeously melodious way. I touch my "mouse nose" to the cold mirror as well, closing my eyes. "Oh how i wish you liked girls," I whispered. And with that, I pulled away from the now tearstained mirror, opening my eyes and giving my "mirror self" a small, sad smile.
      I turned on my indie as frick Spotify playlist consisting of the front bottoms, Sufjan Stevens, and Elliott Smith, to get ready. Fun fact: that is the same playlist I use for when I paint or draw or anything.
    I ran the plastic hairbrush throughout my golden blond hair, falling over every inch of my head. I was focusing on not looking like absolute trash today, and if anyone asks, yes I'm trying to impress someone, and no it's not a boy.
      I pulled up my black skinny jeans, jumping in the process of shimmying into them. They hugged my legs tightly, never letting go, constantly reminding me of their presence. I pulled on a yellow striped shirt that I enjoy. I sang along to "Going to Georgia" by The Mountain Goats. Closing my eyes and swaying back and forth on the balls of my feet, I was smiling and throwing my arms to the sides of my oddly shaped body.
       I applied my mascara to my dull lashes, tediously, but still ending up missing my lashes and planting some right on my eyelid. I carefully wiped it off of my face, trying not to mess it up anymore than I already had. I then swished on some clear lip gloss that makes my lips look shiny in the early spring sunlight.
      I walked out of my room with my black converse on, feeling confident enough to get through the movie and whatever we decide to do after that. I trotted down the stairs with newfound pride. 
     "I'm here, can I let myself in?" Lillia texted.
      "We've been friends for 15 years, of course you can let yourself in," I replied over text.
       "I'm in your home now," Lillia laughed as she walked in.
       "Oooh look at you," I laughed back.
       "No hun, look at you, you're gorgeous!" She exclaimed.
        On the inside I was screaming and applauding. But I tried not to smile and come up with something sarcastic to say.
       "Well, what do you expect when you're me?" I said. She laughed. Then I laughed. Then we laughed. It was sweet I guess.
        About an hour passed until we got into my moms car and we drove off to go see "Black Panther." It was critically acclaimed and Lillia really wanted to see it. I honestly wasn't very interested but I pretended I was so I could make her at least slightly happy with what we were doing today. In other words, I just didn't want to disappoint her. I mean, I guess it was a good movie, but alas, I will never find out because, you see, my mind was distracted. Distracted by the girl sitting to my right.
         When we sat down we both stuck our hands into the popcorn at the same time. You know like in those love story movies? Well yeah that happened. Except Lillia took hold of my hand and........ raised it in the air and yelled "best friends." Though I laughed, I felt like crying. Because it was at that moment that I realized that we were friends and nothing more than that. That's all we would ever be. So for the rest of the movie I looked at her from the corner of my eye. Imagining what it would be like to stroke her hair. How it would feel to be so close to her face. How it would be to be engulfed in her strong yet feminine arms. She was everything that I ever wanted, but more. But I couldn't have her. Because my gay forbidden love does not match up with her fully acceptable straight love. So during the movie I took my hand in my other hand and slowly rubbed them together. Taking my fingers and intertwining them into each other. Imagining what it would be like to touch her sleek looking forearms, to melt into her. For her to fall in love with me. For I wish we were older. I wish we were in love. I wish we were alone. Alone in Manchester.

Thanks so much for reading this and I know I haven't updated in a while, but I hope you enjoy this and tell your friends to read it too!!